


you smell like everything I want (and coconuts)

by bromomethene



Category: Women’s Soccer RPF
Genre: And because I think christance is a pure and beautiful goddess, F/F, a tiny bit of kellex in there plus a sprinkling of krashlyn, also part 2 will be smut so stay tuned for that I guess, because I can say with my whole chest that she does, honestly this is just a lot of fluff, it’s basically just because I miss them and because they love each other, some appearances from some of our favourite 23 best friends, someone tell me tobin doesn’t make dad jokes like this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-14 23:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21244004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bromomethene/pseuds/bromomethene
Summary: Now, Christen wasn't quite sure when she figured out she needed touch kind of like she needed oxygen - but the fact remained that if she wasn't touching someone or being touched in some way she just felt...unsettled.She suppose, if she had to pinpoint it, would guess it had started far before she had even been slightly aware of it. It sort of made sense now why as a baby, she was practically inconsolable if she wasn't being carried, or why she took such a long time to be trained to sleep in her own bed, away from her parents.Maybe it was when she got older, a teenager, realising that people were a lot less naturally inclined to physical contact - that when a boy touched you or you touched him, as innocent as it may have been, it suddenly came with strings and expectations and rumours.She suppose she could've realised it when she finally got into the National Team, a solid place on the roster for World Cup's and Olympics alike, where the women on the team joked and laughed around with each other constantly, affectionate and comfortable with each other in a way that Christen could only dream of achieving.It could've been when she met Tobin Heath.





	you smell like everything I want (and coconuts)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I haven’t written anything in a while (I’m sorry about that by the way) so hopefully this isn’t too awful! I used to write primarily camren, and I will probably be editing a camren version of this - but for now my focus is Preath. 
> 
> There will be a part two to this coming out soon with some extra...things (wink wink). 
> 
> So, if you have any prompts for me come and talk to me on tumblr at @bromomethene and I will definitely try my best to put them in the next part. 
> 
> I think I’ve rambled enough but I hope you guys like it and tell me what you think!
> 
> :)

____//

Now, Christen wasn't quite sure when she figured out she needed touch kind of like she needed oxygen - but the fact remained that if she wasn't touching someone or being touched in some way she just felt...unsettled.

It was an uneasiness that spread through her body slowly; her network of nerves all working in unison to make her feel just a little on edge. A little not right.

She suppose, if she had to pinpoint it, would guess it had started far before she had even been slightly aware of it. It sort of made sense now why as a baby, she was practically inconsolable if she wasn't being carried, or why she took such a long time to be trained to sleep in her own bed, away from her parents.

It sort of made sense that when other kids wanted to go and play outside, running around with their friends, shrieking with laughter, all she really wanted to do was curl up on her Grandad's lap and watch whatever took his fancy that day - more often than not, golf, but occasionally football which stole her focus more prevalently than she can remember anything else doing before.

_(Before Tobin Heath, of course.)_

Maybe it was when she got older, a teenager, realising that people were a lot less naturally inclined to physical contact - that when a boy touched you or you touched him, as innocent as it may have been, it suddenly came with strings and expectations and rumours.

Christen _hated_ it. She hated not being able to hug some of her childhood friends without being checked out, eyes of the boys she had grown up with filled with expectation and barely contained lust. She hated not being able to go anywhere without girls in her school claiming she was some sort of easy lay because of how free and open she was with her movement, as painfully platonic as it may have been.

She suppose she could've realised it when she finally got into the National Team, a solid place on the roster for World Cup's and Olympics alike, where the women on the team joked and laughed around with each other constantly, affectionate and comfortable with each other in a way that Christen could only dream of achieving. They didn't quite _need_ to be touched like she did, but they made her feel like, for the first time, it was okay to _want_ that.

_It could've been when she met Tobin Heath._

____\\\

She guesses it all starts the first time she has a panic attack after a game - where the pressure was high and they've all been working for this for as long as they can remember and they're all playing as hard as they can. There are hundreds of thousands of fans watching; Christen's family and friends are all there, her nieces and nephews and uncle's and aunt's and her parents - all there to cheer her on.

And she misses the penalty.

It doesn't even need to be saved by the goalkeeper, it just flies over the net, over the crossbar, and into the crowd. The stadium suddenly becomes deafeningly silent and all Christen can hear is the blood rushing through her ears and all she can see is her hands shaking and all she's thinking about is how she's let everyone down - again.

Her 200 shots at the goal a day didn't matter. How hard she'd worked for this didn't matter. How much she cared didn't matter. Because in the end, she just wasn't good enough.

She showers for what feels like hours in the locker rooms, making sure she waits till the last echoing footsteps have disappeared and scrubs her skin raw, till she's sensitive and tender all over, in a pitiful attempt to wash the shame and hurt and disappointment off of her. She waits till she can no longer discern the tears in her eyes from the water pouring down on her and till her eyes are blurred and red from crying. She turns the water as hot as it can go, till she feels like she's drowning in steam and her skin is on fire, because she deserves this. She deserves to feel like this.

Finally, the steps out of the showers, shivering and shaking in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature difference and barely has time to wrap a towel around her before she's being practically barrelled over by a panicked Tobin Heath.

Suddenly there's so much happening at once, and Tobin is murmuring softly next to her ear, hands cupping her face to stroke the tears from her cheeks gently, eyes probing into hers, looking for reassurance she's okay that Christen isn't sure she can provide. Her hands move on, frantic, but gentle, stroking down her arms and pulling her hips closer as she checks she's okay.

"_Christen_." She whispers. "You're shaking."

You can do little more than nod your head.

"Sorry." Your voice is hoarse and wavering.

And then Tobin looks at her, really looks at her.

And just like Tobin Heath always seems to do, knows exactly what she needs. Christen wasn't it in the right place to take care of herself right now, mentally and emotionally, and hell would have to freeze over before she let Christen feel like she did without helping, in the same way that Christen was always the first one to volunteer to help another teammate, or give advice, or help someone in need.

She strokes a hand through Christen's wet hair gently, untangling it a little with her fingers as she goes, before gently nudging her to sit on the bench.

"Where's your bag, Chris?" Voice soft and tender, going to grab it from where Christen points to, rummaging through it and pulling out her hairbrush.

"I'm going to brush your hair, okay?"

The other girl nods, as Tobin starts to brush through her curls, as softly as she can, wincing every time she reaches a particularly stubborn knot. Christen sighs so imperceptibly that Tobin wouldn't have even been able to hear it, if she wasn't so completely and utterly tuned in to every aspect of the green-eyed girl.

Christen liked this. She liked that Tobin asked her before doing anything, making sure that she was okay and constantly checking in on her. She felt so _special_ and taken care of and kind of like a _princess_, and yeah, maybe that kind of made her blush but she _loved_ it.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she only just about heard Tobin mumble, "Do you have a hair tie in here?" As she rummaged through the bag once again.

Christen squinted trying to remember if she packed one, sniffling. "N-No. I don't think so. I'm sorry."

It seemed like she couldn't do anything right today, breath hitching as she remembers how she has to face her family and friends and the fans and-

Sighing, Tobin tenderly ran a hand through her hair again, massaging her head with strong, lithe fingers and causing Christen let out a soft (hopefully inaudible) moan and to roll her head back into the touch. "Stop apologising, Chris." She said gently. "It's not your fault."

Christen hesitated before replying. She felt like Tobin was talking about more than a hair tie.

"Okay." She finally nodded.

Tobin smiled for the first time since she had seen Christen in the state she was in. "Okay." Before carrying on, "Besides, it's alright, I brought some the other day in case you needed any."

Christen paused at that. Did that mean Tobin brought hair ties so she could wear them? What did that _mean_-

Before she could properly dissect that, she was having her head tilted back with hands that gently began to braid Christen's hair with clumsy fingers.

"W-When did you learn how to braid?" Christen asked, surprise colouring her tone, distracting her from the all-consuming thoughts that seemed unable to stop running through her mind. It was the most un-Tobin like thing she could've expected.

"_Oh_." Tobin replies, distracted. "I uh- watched a tutorial."

Christen furrowed her eyebrows. "Why? You don't like braids."

"I mean...yeah." For the first time Tobin seemed to be kind of nervous, stuttering a little. "But you said that you liked braiding it before bed and games and stuff. And you know, that you couldn't reach properly so...I just thought I'd learn."

And Christen practically melted. "Tobin. That's so _sweet_. Thank you." A pink blush rising on her face as she looked at the midfielder appreciatively.

"It's okay, Chris. I'd do anything for you, you know that." And the almost painful sincerity in Tobin's voice told Christen everything she needed to know, as she was almost unable to look away from the earnest stare of the other girl. Their eyes locked for impossible minutes as tension filled the air, before Tobin coughed and broke the trance they both seemed to be in.

"C'mon, clothes next." Placing a soft kiss on Christen's forehead as if to apologise for breaking their little staring competition.

Tobin went to her locker, turning before asking Christen, "Do you want to wear your clothes or mine?"

Christen turned pink, knowing she was caught out. She just liked wearing Tobin's clothes. They were warm, and soft and comfy, and smelt so much like the other girl that she couldn't help but feel at home in them.

"Yours." She muttered sheepishly, shy smile tugging at her lips.

But Tobin, bless her heart, didn't say anything to make her feel embarrassed, perhaps deciding that that wasn't the time to tease, especially not when Christen had barely stopped shaking and her eyes were still glazed over.

"Do you want me to give you some space whilst-"

"_No_."

Tobin's eyes kind of started twinkling at that, an amused tilt of her head silently asking Christen what she meant by that, before immediately turning somber as she saw the tears filling her favourite green eyes.

And Christen just felt _stupid_. She didn't even _know_ why she was crying all of a sudden, she just knew that the thought of Tobin leaving, of leaving her, made her feel like someone had cut a hole in her heart and a lump had formed in her throat. She just _panicked_.

She panicked because of the match. She panicked because of every match before then, and every match to come, where every goal not scored felt like a reprimand and a punishment and every opportunity missed felt like her fault and her fault only. She panicked because what if she was never good enough. Wasn't good enough for Tobin to stay.

"Oh, sweetheart. Don't cry. It's alright. What's wrong?" Walking quickly from her spot across the locker room to sit next to Christen.

"I just- I can't-" She sobbed, unable to get out her words properly. "Please- just. Can you hold me just for a little bit? Don't leave. P-please I need it. I just g-get so overwhelmed and-"

Christen was almost hysterically crying now and it hurt Tobin's heart more than she wanted to admit.

"Hey, hey. It's going to be okay, Chris. I promise." Tobin shushing her comfortingly as she did so. "Of course I'll hold you. How do you like to be held, angel?"

Christen blushed softly at that, stubbornly not replying as tears fell from her eyes, thick and fast and her breath came in little hitches.

"Christen." Tobin was holding her hand now, intertwining them. "Tell me? Please? Let me help you. I promise you don't have to be embarrassed."

The curly-haired girl remained silent, nervously fiddling with Tobin's fingers.

Tobin tried a new approach, speaking even softer into the other girl's ear, causing her to shiver. "You know you're my favourite person, sweetheart. I would never judge you. C'mon. For me?"

"I-Yeah. Okay. Can you...just c-can I sit like..."

"On my lap?"

Christen nodded quickly. "Y-Yeah."

"Of course you can." And Tobin gently tugged Christen's hips so she was sitting on her lap, both legs facing one way.

"N-No. More like..." And before Christen could even grasp where she got the sudden confidence from, she was swinging her leg around Tobin's narrow hips, straddling her and burying herself into her neck, sighing in relief.

If Tobin was surprised by this, she didn't show it. Instead, she did just about the best thing she could've done, and murmured into the other girl's ear, "You want me to rub your back?"

"Yeah. Please." Christen sighed in response, sinking even deeper into the embrace and shifting their hips closer as Tobin began tracing invisible lines down her back, strong fingers rubbing and caressing across the expanse of skin. "T-That feels good."

And Christen could practically hear the shit-eating grin that Tobin would 100% be sporting right now if she could see her face. "Shut up." She muttered, grudging but affectionate.

"I didn't say anything, love." Tobin quipped back, voice light and full of unreleased laughter.

"You're still only wearing a robe, you know that? Should we get you changed, Chris?"

Groaning reluctantly, the other girl replied, "Yeah. I suppose so. Can I wear the grey jumper? That's my favourite one. With the matching grey tracksuits?"

Tobin smiled an easy grin. "Yeah. Can I put you down so I can go grab them?"

"No. Carry me." Christen replied, shaking her head stubbornly. "Please" added as an almost afterthought.

Shaking her head and still grinning, Tobin relented, placing her hands on the other girl's thighs and lifting her effortlessly, walking the distance across the locker room to get her clothes before coming to sit back down on the bench, Christen still on her lap.

"Don't you usually wear that lotion, Chris? The one that smells like coconut?"

Tobin never fails to surprise Christen at her attention to detail. "Yeah. It's in my gym bag but- I don't know. I don't...." She trails off.

"What is it? Talk to me, Christen." Tobin implores.

Christen squeezes her eyes shut quickly and blinks once before replying. "I just- I don't t-think I...I don't _deserve_ it. I don't deserve _nice things_." The tears seemed to be welling up in her eyes again. "I messed it up, Tobin. I messed it up for me and for you, and for the whole team. Hell! I messed it up for the country and I can't- why aren't you mad at me! You should be! You're being so nice to me and- and I let you down. And I don't deserve you a-and I don't deserve to be on this team and I definitely don't deserve the nice smelling lotion!"

Christen was clearly panicking now, hands fiddling anxiously with each other and breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Christen." Tobin's voice wasn't angry, just firmer than Christen had ever heard it before, wrought with barely concealed determination. "_Look at me._"

And when Christen didn't immediately turn her head, she found a firm but gentle hand on her jaw, urging her to look into those soulful brown eyes.

"Christen. You deserve the whole _world_."

And that was it.

It was so simple and so basic and so Tobin, that she couldn't help but let out a watery laugh.

But she carried on.

"You didn't let anyone down. I know people have told you this before, but football is a team sport, okay? Everyone goes out into the field and leaves it all behind. We all try our best. And sometimes it's enough, and sometimes it isn't. But that's just how it is. But nothing, nothing about this is your fault. You're a brilliant player and I'm so, so _proud_ of you."

And well, how could Christen argue with that.

"Now, come on. Let's get some nice coconut smelling stuff on you and get you wrapped up nice and warm."

With that, Tobin leaned over to reach Christen's gym back, trying to jostle the girl on her lap as little as possible.

"Give me your arm, please." She murmured, reaching out to squeeze some lotion onto her hand, rubbing them together so they were nice and warm, and began to softly rub the cream into the green-eyed girl's arm, massaging gently as she went.

And Christen- well Christen practically _melted_ into a puddle onto the floor. Tobin just looked so _focused_. On her - on making sure she was okay - and she was so sure that no one else had ever made her feeling like the midfielder did; all warm and gooey inside.

And slowly, methodically, Tobin did the other arm, and her back, and her legs, and then asked Christen so gently and tenderly if she could put on a bra so she could do her front, never once making her feel exposed or anything other than _safe_. And finally, Tobin took a different cream, Christen's favourite face one, and dotted it all over her cheeks and forehead and chin, rubbing it in and leaving a soft kiss on her forehead for good measure.

And then, as if that wasn't enough, she helped her into the sweatshirt and sweatpants and socks and tied up her shoes for her (and at this point, Christen was fine, but she was kind of milking it because she _loved_ being taken care of like this. She loved when _Tobin_ took care of her like this.)

And well, that was just the beginning. After that, touching Tobin and being touched by her comes easily to Christen. It feels safe, and warm, and like home. Tobin just becomes her _person_.

_____\\\

Them touching each other kind of becomes a _thing_ after that.

It's entirely unintentional, but somehow the whole team catches on and teases them mercilessly about it - how Christen and Tobin always seem to be touching in some way.

It's the little things, like how Christen will always seek out Tobin first in a crowded room. Or how Tobin will always shuffle over as soon as she walks in to make space for her next to her (or on her). Or how Christen is always fiddling with the other girl's fingers. Or how Tobin's hand seems to be constantly thrown across her back, caressing there, or her shoulder, or her stomach. Or how-

And the list goes on and on.

And Christen doesn't mind because she loves her teammates. And she would never admit this to anyone but- maybe, just maybe, she likes Tobin Powell Heath even more.

She likes how she's always there for her when Christen gets worked up with soft, comforting words and a strong shoulder to cry on. She likes how she can always make her laugh by her just being her usual, goofy self. She likes how she is with kids. She likes how she is with Christen's dogs and her family and how everything that's special to Christen, she immediately makes her priority. She likes how she never makes a big deal about the fact that Christen somehow always needs to be touching her. She likes how Tobin makes her feel.

And maybe, Christen starts to realise, maybe she does more than like her.

_Maybe it's a whole lot more than that after all._

_____\\\

Kelley and Alex are hosting a barbecue for the whole team the first time anyone comments on it.

They've been trying to have one for ages, but they've all been so busy and things have been so hectic that it look a while to find a date - but now it's here, it's worth it because everyone's having a great time.

The drinks are flowing, and the potluck idea was great because the food is fantastic and the music is loud, but not too loud, and Tobin is so, so _happy_.

She had lost sight of Christen a while ago despite coming together, and she was missing her best friend, but beer pong was waiting and well, Tobin wasn't the reigning champion for no reason.

After several games - which Tobin of course won, (Sonnett didn't stand a chance) - she was ready to call it quits, because she could see Ali, and Alex, and most importantly - Christen, working away in the kitchen to clear their dishes and well - _that just wasn't fair, was it?_

"C'mon guys. Let's go help them out."

Almost immediately, Ashlyn and Kelley were jumping up off their seats, trailing behind Tobin to go into the kitchen to help their wife and girlfriend respectively.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tobin could see Ashlyn go and take the broom off of Ali, ushering her away with a kiss, telling her to go sit down because, "You deserve it, baby."

(She seemed to miss Christen's longing look at her though, because _godamnit_ if Christen didn't want to be called _baby_ by Tobin too.)

She could also see Alex leaning up to put clean glasses back into the cupboard, Kelley approaching her with a soft hand on her back, twisting her around and kissing her thoroughly against the counter. She could see Alex giggle into her mouth, and she could see Kelley lift her into the kitchen counter, with a soft forehead kiss and strict instructions to _"Just sit there and look pretty, gorgeous. It shouldn't be hard for you."_ Whilst Kelley continued Alex's job from before, stacking glasses on the shelves and occasionally stopping to blow raspberries onto the blue-eyed girl's cheeks under the pretence of kisses.

But most of all, well, most of all Tobin could see _Christen_. She could see her washing dishes, eyebrows furrowed after she cleaned each one to make sure they were as perfect as they could be. She could see how tired she was after playing so many full 90's for Utah from the more prominent hunch in her back, and the way she was leaning, with half her weight on the kitchen counter.

(Tobin was sure she was carrying the team on her back, and whilst she was so, so _proud_ of her, she was also slightly worried).

So, she meandered her way into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around Christen and hearing a delighted squeak as she realised who was embracing her.

"Hi!"

Tobin smiled, her soft, special, only for Christen Annemarie Press, smile.

"Hey."

Christen turned her head slightly, and they simply gazed at each other for a beat, before Christen was turning back around with a giggle and continued doing the dishes.

Not under Tobin's watch though. Quickly, Tobin was sliding her hands up from Christen's hip (causing a hitch of breath that Tobin didn't quite know what to do with), across her shoulders (although not before giving them a soft squeeze), and down her arms, enveloping the soapy hands that were doing dishes.

"Let me do it." Tobin urged her, guiding Christen's hands around the saucepan they were cleaning, intertwining their fingers as Tobin scrubbed, guiding the other girl's hands.

"Why don't you go sit outside with everyone, Chris? You look tired." She said, gentle as ever.

And soon, Christen's hand had basically stopped moving altogether, just letting Tobin do all the work whilst their soapy hands stayed linked.

"I like it here."

And of course Christen did, wrapped up in Tobin's arms in a picture of domesticity that was almost too much to bear, but everything Christen wanted at the same time.

"Let me at least dry your hands for you. You're going to get pruny." Tobin grinned, that easy, slightly-crooked grin that always took Christen's breath away.

"Okay."

And so Tobin turned off the tap, picked up the dish rag lying on the counter next to them, and taking Christen's hands, gently dried them off, rubbing it over her palms, and the back of her hands, and each finger individually, leaving a kiss on each once she was finished.

Christen turned around, and just looked at her with so much adoration and something else in her eyes that Tobin couldn't quite place, that she almost wanted to blush.

And then, she wrapped her arms around Tobin's middle like a little koala, in between her and the sink, and just clung there, burrowing her head into Tobin's neck and sighing into the embrace, whilst Tobin's arms were around her still washing the dishes.

_"This is so gay."_

And of course, it was Kelley, gleefully mouthing the words over Christen's head.

Glaring at her, Tobin mouthed back furiously, "Shut _up_."

And then, because really Ashlyn and Kelley were the most infuriating people she'd ever met, Ashlyn was on her hands and knees with Kelley on her back, whilst Kelley mimicked the cracking of a whip on top of her, the rest of the team chortling from outside.

Typical.

(Alex and Ali both looked a little pink behind them - although Tobin couldn't quite tell whether that was from embarrassment or something else entirely.)

She hated them all.

_____\\\

Later on in the night, when some of the girls were still outside trying this new whisky Ashlyn had brought from Scotland and some of the girls were in the swimming pool (some willingly, some decidedly not), and Christen was upstairs with Alex, both looking to borrow dresses from Ali for a wedding they had coming up, Kelley asked her about it.

"So, what's the deal with you and Christen anyway?"

Tobin looked confused. "What do you mean 'deal'?"

"I mean, are you guys together?"

Tobin choked on her whisky, coughing and spluttering.

(And yeah, maybe Tobin knew that she liked Christen, more than she'd ever liked anyone before, and yeah maybe Tobin wanted to marry her one day and have her be the mother of her children, but that wasn't the question, was it?)

Still gasping for air she replied, "Nothing. We're friends, w-why?"

"Because you don't act like friends." And that was Ashlyn that time, ever-present smirk on her face.

And well, Tobin didn't quite know how to respond to that because she kind of...wasn't wrong.

Luckily, she was saved by the metaphorical bell (okay, Christen), as the other girl plopped onto her lap - curling up into her arms, head half buried in the crook of Tobin's neck and half looking at the rest of the group.

"Hey." Tobin chuckled, amused.

Christen smiled back, cheekily. "Hi. I'm cold. Cuddle me?"

"Hi, cold. I'm Tobin."

Annoyed with herself for finding that funny, Christen rolled her eyes and bit her lip to hide her giggle. "You're the _worst_."

Tobin playfully sighed like it was some great task for her. "You like it."

God, she was confident. And god, did Christen find it sexy.

"But what am I going to get it return?" Tobin continued, soft, teasing smile lighting up her face.

Christen pretended to hum thoughtfully, "I'll give you a kiss on the cheek."

Grinning broadly now, Tobin replied back, "Well, how can I resist that."

She straightened from her slouched position, pulling off her jumper from the neck and put it over Christen's head, before wrapping her arms around her again and leaning back so the curly-haired girl could cuddle back into her properly.

"Hmmm." Christen sighed. "This is nice. You're so warm."

At this point, Christen is so wrapped up in her, breathing in Tobin's cologne in deep breaths, letting it envelope her, that she doesn't know where she began and where the other girl ended.

(She doesn't even need to look at the rest of the team to know how badly she's going to get teased about this for the rest of her life.)

"You smell _so_ good." Christen practically whined into her neck.

Tobin blushed heartily. "Thank you, Chris. So do you."

The next words were mumbled into Tobin's neck, and whilst she couldn't hear them that well, they meant the entire world to her.

"I'm wearing the coconut lotion. I deserve to."

_Tobin was so happy she could nearly cry._

_____\\\

So the thing about Tobin being her _person_, was that Christen sort of saw her as _hers_.

And she didn't mean to be possessive or jealous or territorial because she was a _feminist_ and she knew all of that wasn't cool at all - and even if her and Tobin were dating (which, as much as Christen longed for it, they were not), that still wasn't cool.

But god, she could've poked Shirley with a pencil with no regrets.

Because here she was in a bar, with the rest of the team, watching as Shirley threw herself all over her Tobin, with their stupid "mi amor this" and "mi amor that". She watched as Shirley cuddled up to the midfielder, running her hands across her abs with her head so close to Tobin's and her legs so wrapped around her she was practically on her lap and well-

_That was Christen's place._

It was a truth universally acknowledged that Tobin Powell Heath's lap was Christen Annemarie Press' place.

And Shirley was all over her like a bitch in heat.

(And it's a shame, because she was sure Shirley was actually really lovely and she couldn't blame her for being madly attracted to Tobin Heath because how could you not be? Have you seen her? She was all lithe, hard muscle and long limbs and golden skin and chiselled features and god, Christen was so, so attracted to her.)

So Christen was trying not to be a psycho, she really was, and she knew she was being completely irrational because it was statistically very unlikely that Tobin and Shirley of all people would end up together, but she was really finding it hard to keep it together because she was _Tobin's_ to touch and Tobin was _hers_ and now she wasn't the only one - and how the _hell_ was she meant to deal with that?

But she had to try. So she balled her hands into tight fists and clenched her jaw and watched it all happen.

She watched Shirley put a kiss on Tobin's cheek a bit too close to her lips for comfort. She watched a sly hand slide its way up Tobin's leg till it was caressing her inner thigh. She watched as they got closer and closer together and it seemed like the room was getting smaller and smaller and had less and less oxygen in it, until she lost it when Shirley got up during her favourite song and gave Tobin a lap dance.

How the hell was she supposed to compete with a lap dance?_ A freakin' lap dance._

Shirley was grinding herself all up on Tobin and the midfielder was laughing hard and looked like she was having the time of her life.

And Christen? Well, Christen had just about had enough for one night, _thank you very much._

She made up an excuse about not feeling well, left a hefty tip on the table and walked out of there as quickly as she could, before Tobin could see the hurt painting over her features and the shaking of her hands.

But of course, nothing could ever be that _easy_ for her, because as Christen was collecting her coat in the foyer of the club, Tobin came running up to her, breathless and heaving, grabbing her wrist gently before she could make a hasty exit.

Christen sighed because she was so not in the mood for this, and she was so _sure_ it was going to be a shit show. She couldn't handle her emotions at the best of times, never mind with more than her fair share of drinks in her and never mind with something that concerned Tobin Heath.

"Wait! Chris, wait! Where are you going?"

"Back to the hotel."

And Christen couldn't help but be the tiniest bit satisfied when she saw Tobin falter slightly because she had never heard Christen be that cold or short with her before.

Nevertheless, Tobin pressed on. "W-What? Why?"

Rolling her eyes, Christen shook her wrist out of Tobin's loose grasp, saying more harshly than she intended to, "Because I don't want to be here anymore."

And now, Christen could see the hurt in her favourite pair of eyes. And well, she couldn't quite handle knowing she had put it there, so she looked away from the confused brown orbs, down at the floor and god- cursed herself as her own eyes began to fill with tears.

She blinked them back angrily. Not here. Not now.

"Christen." And Tobin's voice was so, so soft now, as she took both her hands and intertwined them with her own.

She blinked back more tears, clenching her teeth. "No."

"No?"

"_No_." She confirmed, more upset than angry now.

And Tobin was just looking at her sadly.

"I _know_ you're upset, Chris. You don't have to hide it from me."

And that didn't make it better. Because it was so frustrating how Tobin could just see through her always, see how she was feeling, see what she wanted and needed, and Christen was so powerless stop it.

"Whatever." She muttered back angrily.

Tobin sighed. "Can I give you a hug, Christen?"

God, she was so annoyingly perfect. Because well, Christen wanted nothing more. She wanted to be wrapped up in Tobin's arms again, feeling as safe and secure as she always did, because Tobin's muscles made her feel small and cared for and like she was protected from the whole world, and she loved being enveloped by her so tight she could feel and hear her heartbeat - but she knew that as soon as she touched her she'd melt into a puddle and confess everything and it was so _embarrassing_ that Christen was this jealous when she had no _right_ to be.

But before she could do anything, Tobin was pulling her tight into the hug she was craving, guiding her arms to wrap around the midfielder's neck and wrapping her own around Christen's hips, pulling her tight to her.

And Christen, as predicted, _melted_. God, she'd never had anyone affect her this way, and yeah she loved touch, but she'd never _needed_ it as much as she does with Tobin.

"I'm sorry." Christen mumbled into her neck.

And Tobin's voice was as soothing and comforting as ever when she cooed, "It's okay. If you want to go back to the hotel, I'll come with you, alright? I don't want you walking back by yourself at night. Let me come with you."

"Are you sure?" Christen asked, voice hardening by a fraction, her guard going up slightly. "You looked like you were having a great time with _Shirley_."

Tobin raises her eyebrows, half amused and half surprised.

"So that's what this is all about, huh?" Voice still, annoyingly, as tender and fond as ever.

"No." Christen mutters under her breath, before seeing Tobin's little smirk and whining pathetically, "It's not _funny_. Stop laughing at me."

And even though Tobin listened, (because god, she found it so hard not to do everything in her power to make Christen as happy as she could be), and wiped the smile off her face, her eyes were still filled with mirth.

"Christen. Were you jealous, my beautiful girl?"

Christen was flushed now, licking her lips at the term of endearment and kind of just wanting to sink into the ground and sink into everything that was Tobin at the same time.

"N-No." Voice wavering uncertainly as she replied.

"Hmm." Tobin hummed. "Very convincing."

Christen gave her the stink-eye. "Shut up. I'm not jealous I'm just... I just- seeing her with...and the way she t-touched you and-"

"You were _jealous_." And the stupid, stupidly attractive crooked smile was back, the deep, mellow voice behind it mild and teasing.

Well, jokes on Tobin because Christen just stuck her tongue out at her and speed-walked out the club, leaving Tobin grinning, dumbfounded at the childish action, before jogging to catch up.

"Hey, Chris! Wait up!"

____\\\

They're back at the hotel before they know it, and somewhere along the very short walk, their hands had become intertwined as Christen clung tightly to Tobin's bicep, licking her lips every so often at the way it flexed in the tight white t-shirt she was wearing.

"You know we need to talk, right?" Tobin asked, tone as calm as ever.

Christen looked up at her from where she was leaning her head on her shoulder and exhaled. "Yeah. I suppose so."

"Okay. Why don't you come up to my room after you've got ready for bed? Maybe you can stay the night?"

Christen's eyes widened as she coughed subtly to clear her throat.

"Wait. Not like that!"

And Christen couldn't help but laugh a little at the panic in Tobin's face as she stuttered to correct herself.

"Mhhmm. Sure, Tobs. Whatever you say." She replied, teasing now.

Tobin seemed to realise this, eyes narrowing playfully and competitively, voice lowering and becoming deep and suggestive in a way that just does something to the green-eyed girl.

_"Well, Christen. It's not nice to tease just because I want you face down on my mattress."_

And well, that just took her breath away.

She thinks she might have vaguely squeaked which...was also extremely embarrassing, but god, the way her stomach bottomed out when Tobin said that was just- it was hard to ignore.

"Cool. Cool. Uhm- I'll be. Yeah. Right there - as soon as p-possible." She said, voice breathy and an octave higher than usual. "Bye."

Christen was so sure Tobin was never going to live that down - but you know what, she had shit to do to make herself presentable, because it had been a long day and yeah, maybe she wanted to look that extra little bit special for her - so with a final, awkward nod to Tobin, she walked into the lift of the hotel, quickly smashing the close door button before Tobin could join her and she'd do something she'd regret.

Tobin's amused smile and twinkling eyes were the last thing she saw as the doors closed.

____\\\

_Should she exfoliate? Should she shave? Should she use a different lotion? Or was that presumptuous?_

_....lingerie was definitely too much, right?_

(Not that she'd be against it, mind.)

But was it _too_ much? She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard, but at the same time she wanted to kind of look effortlessly nice and beautiful and-

She just wanted to impress Tobin. She wanted to look nice for Tobin, because she was _everything_ to her and because she _deserved_ it and because she _liked_ her.

She liked her so, so much.

So she went for it - the full package. Shower, shave, exfoliate, shampoo, conditioner, hair mask, lotion.

And then, she got dressed into her nicest pyjamas that weren't straight up lingerie - these tiny little shorts that might as well not be there at all, and a camisole, all lacy and _god_, there was a lot of skin showing - so she really hoped Tobin appreciated it.

_(She knew, in her heart of hearts, that Tobin wouldn't miss a single detail when it came to her.)_

And she slipped her feet into her fuzzy slippers, going down the hotel corridor, nervously chewing her lip. She knocked.

And immediately her breath was taken away.

How could it not be? Tobin Heath was leaning on the door frame of the hotel room, and Christen couldn't help but let her eyes trace up her form hungrily.

She almost died - because all she was wearing was these white boxer shorts and a white t shirt, muscles flexed, freshly showered and smelling incredible, looking all tanned and just sexy.

And Christen _wants_ her - she wants her so so badly - more than she's ever wanted anything before.

And the look in her eyes - well that just took her breath away.

_"Christen. Come in."_

____\\\

Tobin's voice was slow and deep and was affecting her in a way she didn't even realise was possible.

"Where do you want to sit?" Tobin asked.

Christen looked around. In all fairness, there weren't many options - there was the bed or the desk, or the tiny single chair next to the window. But, she appreciated Tobin asking and not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

"Uhmm - the bed? I guess?" Christen mumbled.

Grinning easily, Tobin traipsed her way to her, casually pulling Christen with her by the hips and dancing them across the room till they reached the bed, giving one gentle, playful push so that Christen fell back onto the plush duvet with an, "Oomph."

Christen barely had time to catch her breath at that, because Tobin was crawling into the bed next to her, wrapping her up in the warmest hug. She smelt so _good_, like old spice and something distinctly _her_, and her arms were so _muscly_, all lean, wiry strength, and every single part of their bodies were touching-

_(-The fact that their hips were so flush together had Christen blushing even more and shifting uncomfortably, but that kind of made it worse, so she decided to just stay put)._

"So," Tobin started, beginning to gently rake her fingers through Christen's hair.

The curly haired girl couldn't help but purr, nuzzling her head further into the touch.

(How Tobin expected her to carry out a coherent conversation when she was doing that, she wasn't sure.)

"You got jealous." She continued, voice calm as ever. "Of Shirley."

Christen didn't really know why she felt the need to clarify that, but the slight twinkle in Tobin's eyes told her that she was enjoying this more than she would like to admit.

"Hmm." Christen replied, non-commitedly. "_Eh_. I mean...if _that's_ how you saw it."

Scoffing playfully, Tobin replied. "Christen! You were so jealous, baby."

Christen blushed, hard.

"I was _not_." She whined, petulant. "And you can't just _say_ stuff like that." She continued, muttering now and cheeks still feeling warm.

"Oh, yeah? Why not?" Tobin replied, stopping her motions through Christen's hair.

Christen sighed at the loss of the touch, wondering how on earth Tobin could be this dense - or if she just _liked_ to torture her.

Pouting, she took Tobin's hand from where it had dropped from her hair and moved it to her back.

"Stroke me? Please?"

Tobin could feel her heart just melt - because Christen Press was the cutest person in the entire world - and she wanted Tobin to be near her, to touch her. She was so _lucky_.

And more than that, she felt _good_ about herself. She knew how much Christen needed touch, she knew she needed that physical reassurance, she knew that it steadied her, she knew just how comforting it was, and she knew how much Christen had to trust her to provide all these things for her.

"Always." Tobin replies, solemn and sincere. Then slightly sterner, "Talk to me, please."

And Christen wanted to, she did. She was just...she was scared. To put herself out there and of changing her relationship with Tobin. It was the most precious thing in the world to her, and she couldn't lose her. It would kill her.

But this weird limbo her and the other forward were in, the truth was that it wasn't _working_. It wasn't working for either of them to carry on like this.

She took a deep breath and said in barely a whisper, voice trembling. "I-I really like you, Tobin. I've had all these feelings for you for... -as long as I can remember really, but I've been scared. _I've been so scared of losing you._"

"Christen." Tobin breathed out. "You could _never_ lose me. Ever. Do you hear me? Ever. You mean everything to me. Everything. And I would never let you go unless you wanted me to, okay?"

"_Really?"_ The other girl's voice was small and shaky.

Tobin took a deep breath. "_Really_. I have feelings for you too, Chris. I like you so much."

_And listen, okay_. Christen was trying her best to focus, she really was. Everything Tobin was saying was everything she had been wanting to hear for years and years. But, then Tobin had brought her hand up to gently tug up the string of her camisole that had fallen down - and in her nerves had begun to play with the strap, fingers fiddling with it and eyes focused on Christen's shoulder.

Her eyes were so dark, and so focused on her, and her touch was tender and firm and- Christen couldn't help but shiver.

_"Stop that."_ She barely manages to chokes out. "I'm trying to focus, Tobs."

Tobin's answering grin is almost teasing. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'm trying to focus here too, Christen."

Christen ducks her head down shyly, a pretty blush colouring her cheeks.

"I-I...uh. Okay."

"_Okay_."

"Good."

"_Good_."

"Cool."

"_As a cucumber_."

Christen giggled.

Tobin started a slow stroke down the length of the curly-haired girls back, pressure firm and palms warm and Christen couldn't help but purr at that and shift closer to the touch.

"So..." Tobin started, "I like you. And you like me. Where does that leave us?"

Nuzzling deeper into her neck, Christen mumbled back, sleepy now. "Touch me. Properly."

Tobin hesitated. "What do you mean _properly_, Chris?"

Pouting now, Christen impatiently made grabby motions for Tobin's hand, before leading it under her shirt to stroke her back, skin-to-skin.

Tobin swallowed hard. Christen was everything she had ever wanted and she was so _soft_, and sleepy and _precious_, and she just wanted to wrap her up in her arms like a burrito and protect her from the whole world.

"Want to date you." Tobin breathed out. "Want to date you so badly."

She could feel the smile Christen had formed on her neck, a grin so broad that her teeth were pressing into her skin and if she wasn't mistaken, even a small giggle into her neck.

"Hmm. 'Kay. Yes, please."

Tobin couldn't help it - she really couldn't. Christen was just being so _adorable_ and so _her_ and she just had so many _feelings_ for her, that she couldn't even fathom stopping herself from twisting her neck down and capturing the other girls lips with her own, interrupting her rambling with a soft, "Mhm."

And god, it was perfect. Christen was warm to the touch, her lips were soft and plush and so, so _biteable_, (and as Tobin would come to find out later, that was something Christen enjoyed a lot), and she was making these little sounds that really got her going and-

And she smelled like coconuts.

_And Tobin couldn't help but smile._

______\\\_


End file.
